


Lunar Eclipse

by Serinah



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Airship Captain Nicolo, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pining, Prince Yusuf, formal courting, meet ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28982424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serinah/pseuds/Serinah
Summary: Prince Yusuf Al Kaysani is fine with the fact that his fondness for Captain Nicolo diGenova is unrequited. Things change when the scandal strikes and he is forced to court the taciturn captain.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 42
Kudos: 251
Collections: All and More (18+) Kaysanova Gift Bag 2020





	Lunar Eclipse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SolanumCrispumGlasnevin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolanumCrispumGlasnevin/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [SolanumCrispumGlasnevin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolanumCrispumGlasnevin/pseuds/SolanumCrispumGlasnevin) in the [All_and_More_Gift_Bag_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/All_and_More_Gift_Bag_2020) collection. 



> This was a 2k thing that grew a little... :)
> 
> A THANK YOU for your abundant encouragement and support in the form of BETA work:
> 
> Imoshen, BuckyAboveEverything, beans_on_toast, and AvengersNewB <3 <3 <3
> 
> And the whole wonderful server for all the brainstorming and working on name and gifts and any silly thing I asked about - THANK YOU! <3<3<3
> 
> Just FYI:  
> A brasserie is a French-style informal restaurant with a lot of drinks, so calling the officers this implies that they're sitting around eating and drinking instead of fighting (Thank you, Wynne!!!)

### first meeting

The Lunar Dark is a flagship. As far as average airships go, it’s large and its shape is unconventional, but it’s also a work of art with its dark wooden walls and sleek silhouette with golden accents. The balloon above it is the classical round, tied in via an intricate rope rigging and doesn’t look like something that could support quick movement at all, but the engineering is clever. Any wind nature gives, it absorbs and utilises, the magic fuel boosting the navigational flexibility of its flaps and slats. It looks as majestic as it is powerful and Yusuf makes a mental note of how its guns glisten in the sun before embarking on it.

He wants to draw it more than he’s wanted to draw anything in a very long time, but the desire only lasts until he sees the captain of the ship.

“I welcome you,” the man says attentively but seriously, his lips in a pleasant shape and his large, deep-set eyes are of a light colour complemented by his dark blue uniform. “I hope you will have a pleasant trip.”

“I’m sure we will. This is such a beautiful ship,” Yusuf says, but he’s staring at the man, and he’s sure it is obvious what he actually means.

He knows this because diGenova blushes and looks away.

“We are not a pleasure cruise though,” the captain cautions, and Yusuf laughs.

“I’m sure there’s pleasure to be had nonetheless,” he responds, unable to help himself.

DiGenova opens his mouth, closes it, and presses his lips together. Blushes even more and the pause stretches.

“I’m first mate, Nile Freeman,” a crew member introduces herself and the conversation flows again.

Yusuf introduces his sister Noor, and smiles and hopes that he comes across as charming but not even complimentary phrases about the ship draw the captain back to the conversation as he remains tightlipped, the grim set of his jaw showing his obvious displeasure. Feeling foolish, Yusuf steps away without waiting for a reply. He thinks that Noor says something to smooth the situation, and it’s probably not as awkward as Yusuf thinks. Probably. The first mate shows them towards their quarters and promises a tour later.

Having been left alone in his cabin, Yusuf groans. He just hopes this trip is not going to be two and a half days filled with awkwardness. No matter, Yusuf tells himself. He’s been rejected before. He will behave, and hopefully the captain will forgive him. Yusuf just hopes that the second time the effect diGenova has on him will not be as strong, and Yusuf will be able to keep himself in check. It wouldn’t do for the fourth prince of the Sultanate to appear like an enamoured youth who’s out in a polite company for the first time. 

The second meeting is not much better. During dinner, the captain’s presence again sends Yusuf’s heart aflutter, and he tries for friendly banter, to cover for it, but it seems that the offence Captain diGenova has taken is permanent. His face is closed off and his conduct is stilted. He nods at appropriate times, but his replies are formulaic at best and occasionally even monosyllabic. The other guests act as if nothing is out of the ordinary though, and the rest of the crew is a saving grace. At the end of the meal, the first mate (who’s been unaccountably amused the whole evening) whispers something into Captain diGenova’s ear, which coaxes a fleeting smile onto his handsome face. The message, nevertheless, is received, and Yusuf resolves to keep himself away for the duration of the trip.

Shortly before landing, two days later, Yusuf is sitting with his sister in the lounge, talking and pretending not to be following the captain with his eyes. 

“You are still being obvious,” Noor tells him quietly once the captain and an officer have disappeared behind a door to the lower deck.

Mentally cringing, Yusuf makes a show of ignoring her.

Mostly because diGenova has appeared back out, taking long strides straight past them and up onto the second gallery. Internally sighing, Yusuf lets his eyes trail after the man. He strikes an imposing figure with his wide shoulders and long legs. The gallery is too far for Yusuf to hear what is said there, but when he strains his ears, Yusuf can hear the deep melodic rumble of his voice. Another thing he notices is how every crew member listens to Captain diGenova avidly and obeys him with an immediacy that speaks of utmost respect. It is not just because he is the captain of the Royal Air Forces, Yusuf is sure. Undoubtedly, it is also because he is a war hero; the man who had refused to advance on the civilian villages but won the battle anyway. The enemy had been crushed, the war won and almost six months later, the allied forces are still celebrating.

Annoyed, Yusuf tears his eyes from the man.

“Don’t worry,” Noor tries to comfort him, and this is stupid. “He’ll get over it. I’m sure there are many people that try to gain his attention in similar and even worse ways.”

Yusuf sighes. “You are not really helping.”

Noor smiles mock-patronisingly. “But of course I am. I’m your sister and I’m telling you, it is fine. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I am not embarrassed.” Yusuf reaches for the two-day-old newspaper just to have something to hide his face behind.

“You should try and embrace it, you know. Face your feelings. Might help.” She winks at him.

“I’m seven years your senior, stop trying to mother me,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t be quarrelsome, brother,” Noor says, patting his forearm. “The award ceremony is in five hours and we are almost there. Relax and enjoy. I know you like such gatherings, that is why I asked Brother to allow the two of us to go.”

She grins in an extremely self-satisfied way, and Yusuf has to hide the fondness quickly spreading in his chest.

“Had I known you were planning to do that,” he comments dryly, “I’d have smothered you with a pillow.”

“You’re being discourteous," she says half-seriously. "How are you going to seduce the good captain if you scowl like that?”

Yusuf glares. 

### award ceremony

The award ceremony is as bad as Yusuf dreaded. They haven’t even got in and Yusuf already feels out of place. It is not because of the event itself — Noor was right — as a rule, he likes social gatherings, but the whole palace in the capital of the Federate of the Atlantean States is full of decorated military men and that is not his scene. Now that the war is over and the veterans are back, he feels awkward wearing the military uniform. Unfortunately, his duties cannot be forsaken. It’s just for tonight, he tells himself **.**

“Prince Yusuf and Princess Noor of the Divine Sultanate of Deghrib Seas and Protectorates”, they are announced, and with his head held high, Yusuf walks in with his sister on his arm.

They walk past the Royal Air Forces, the Federate Army, and then they are bowing before the Lord Chancellor himself. Yusuf gives his greetings and gifts, compliments the Lady Chancellor and walks Noor slightly to the right toward a few other guests who have also been already introduced.

He is looking around when accidentally (definitely not on purpose, he tells himself), his eyes meet the captain’s. Feeling the heat jolt all through his body, he stills, his eyesight sharpens and tunnels out until the large pair of eyes in an (almost) stranger's face is all he sees. Yusuf misses what a random local dignitary tells him next, so he hums. diGenova does not look away, and feeling ridiculously triumphant, Yusuf smiles.

Immediately, the eye contact breaks. The captain turns to someone standing next to him and Yusuf sees it's a beautiful petite lady smiling back at him. The stab of irritation that follows is momentary and foolish. He returns to his own conversation and tells himself, again, to stop seeking humiliation. He's not a masochist.

Yusuf smiles and nods, and they move around and wait for the actual ceremony to start. It drags on and Noor starts offering silly commentary into his ear which makes Yusuf press his lips together so he won’t openly snigger.

“Pillow,” he says, smiling pleasantly. “Midnight, my dearest sister. Wait for me.”

“Oh you’ll come to tuck me in, Brother? You’re too sweet!”

“Just you wait,” he promises darkly. “Sweetness can be cloying.”

Her eyes are twinkling.

It’s over an hour later that he and the Duke from the Royal Kingdoms can finally give their speeches. Then there’s the actual reward portion of the evening where all the heroes of the Federal Armies are lauded, decorated and redecorated with metal and ribbons **,** and then, thank all the divine beings on heaven and earth, the dancing starts.

The spread of food is lavish, the music excellent, and Noor turns out to be right — it's not so bad. It’s three dances later that Yusuf hears it. He’s leaving the dance floor when a deep, melodic laugh reaches his ears and goes straight through Yusuf’s body down to his toes. It’s like magic and Yusuf turns to see the source of the voice and of course…

Of course it is him.

Yusuf does not believe in destiny, and even if he did, he refuses to entertain the idea of it with a man who’s made it clear that the advancement of any kind of relationship would be most unwelcome. So it is absolutely unfair that Captain diGenova has such an effect on Yusuf that Yusuf’s body recognises the sound of his laughter, even when hearing it for the first time. Keeping his face neutral, Yusuf resumes walking. Thankfully, the captain’s back is to him, so he just draws in a sharp breath and makes himself scarce. It certainly wouldn’t do to be caught staring.

### the incident

The award ceremony has yet to wind down but Yusuf has had enough. It’s almost three in the morning and, tired, Yusuf is standing on the terrace, breathing fresh air (and hiding from a slightly drunk admirer). The starry dark sky above him is beautiful and Yusuf is contemplating the merits of a walk on the grounds when the high hedge to his left starts moving.

First, the end of a long saber sticks out of it, and it’s not a purely ceremonial weapon that seems to be prevalent at these types of events; it’s an honest-to-god— 

There’s swearing and Yusuf goes cold. How can that be…? The bushes move again and Yusuf sees a hip, an arm, and then the rest of the body. Captain diGenova falls out, turns, and lands on his knees before Yusuf, holding on to his waist. He looks up, grins and then faceplants into his groin. Moaning, he mumbles something, and tightens his grip.

“Captain,” Yusuf gets out, flailing with his hands. “Captain, you can’t—”

Instinctively, he steps back but there's a wall behind him, and the captain, still holding on, just falls with him.

"Please," Yusuf gets out, sounding as if he’s being strangled, and tries dislodging the man from his person, but suddenly the terrace doors open and several young people burst out of it, laughing.

Yusuf’s heart stops, his hands freeze on diGenova's shoulders, and the shocked hush falls over the previously rumbustious group.

“Prince Yusuf,” someone whispers, just as the kneeling man rights himself, and still holding on to Yusuf, starts getting up.

“Captain diGenova!” someone else says.

Oh heavens! Oh...

Finally, the captain gets up, and clearly not fully comprehending what just happened, smiles widely at Yusuf.

“Go-orgeous,” he drawls out and giggles.

### the scandal

At first, when Noor hears about the incident at the award ceremony, she laughs. She believes in his innocence and she treats it as an amusing anecdote right up until she hears that the Duke himself is requesting an audience and that the sultan's Higher Wazir will arrive two days henceforth. When she starts crying, Yusuf pushes his own feelings aside, jokes and tries comforting her.

Privately, his anxiousness is mounting. To endure the unrequited admiration for a man who most probably despises Yusuf for what he represents in the military structure as such is difficult enough, but to know that they are now inevitably tied to one another for a lifetime, is most distressing. The embarrassment and pain of rejection has turned to a petulant, helpless fury.

During the week, Yusuf receives several bouts of scolding via mail from his brother, mother, his third uncle and mother again. 

When the wazir arrives and three days later, it is all arranged.

“Why do _I_ have to court _him?_ ” Yusuf asks, barely holding back his seething incredulity.

“The tradition dictates—” the wazir starts calmly.

“Yes. Yes, I know.”

Yusuf stalks toward the balcony, stares outside and listens to the old man talk. He knows all of this. Being of lower rank, a mere captain could not even entertain the idea of initiating such a courtship, but the king and sultan both insist that Yusuf's reputation cannot suffer for such a public indiscretion. Had he already been married, a little dalliance with a handsome captain might be just a gossip material, but as it stands—

This isn’t helping. Yusuf strides back deeper into the room and drops heavily onto the divan.

“I can’t believe my brother didn’t even come himself,” he interrupts the wazir. “No, what I am saying, of course I can believe it.”

“The sultan—”

"I _know."_

“The scandal—”

“Which is in no way my fault!” Yusuf exclaims, barely keeping himself from shouting. “DiGenova is the one to — the man was drunk off his ass! He fell out of the bushes and straight on me—” He cuts himself off. His brother’s minister’s face has the same degree of disbelief on it, as he can imagine his brother probably had when he heard the news.

“And now it is me who has to court him,” Yusuf spits.

This is humiliating. And the man doesn’t even _like_ him!

“Unfortunately, as a simple military man, Captain diGenova—”

“There’s nothing simple about Captain diGenova,” Yusuf mutters darkly.

This time, the old wazir ignores him. "As the one with a higher rank—"

"I know,” Yusuf presses through his clenched teeth.

There’s a pointed silence. Yusuf sighes and mutters, “Fine, fine. You may continue.”

The wazir nods. “Then, my prince, perhaps we can start making preparations? The tradition dictates...”

Yusuf lets the words wash over him, as the rigidly set steps of the traditional courtship are once again laid out in excruciating detail. To stave off the dull headache, Yusuf pinches the bridge of his nose.

“My prince?” the wazir sounds concerned.

“No matter.” Yusuf waves his hand imperiously. “Continue.”

He is very well acquainted with the degree of control the tradition holds over his life and he knows all these stupid and useless rules. He’d just hoped that when he started courting… But his past musings are irrelevant now. Let the old man talk. He will feel better if he feels useful.

### first courting gift

Formal courting has strict rules. The suitor sends the gifts and if the proposal is accepted, the intended will send something in return. Of course, in this case, the king has already accepted the suit in Captain diGenova’s stead, and that is yet another reason Yusuf expects to be hated by his husband. So he’s not at all worried about setting an amicable tone to their exchange.

Yusuf sends a huge bejeweled wine flagon and a dozen crates of excellent Enturian wines. Tone set.

Up until the day after, Yusuf is in viciously high spirits, but the gift he receives in return is a decorated sabre the blade of which has obviously been very carefully dulled into looking like a child’s toy; even if it's full size and made of actual steel. Yusuf presses his lips together and works on not letting them quiver in hurt. Touche, Captain diGenova, touche. But the truth is that diGenova is as much of a drunkard as Yusuf is a coward. The captain has an excellent reputation — Yusuf has never heard anything that could make him think that the well-known hero of Jeh Krusillah is anything but an honorable man. By all accounts, what happened, seems to have been an aberration. A mistake. A crucial and life-changing one, but still, a mistake.

“What is he thinking?” Noor fumes, not in the least understanding. “Sending you something like this?! They would hardly let the crown prince fight! You cannot be held to fault that our brother did not yet have the twins!”

True. And yet, he still feels as if he’s failed. “I thank you, sister,” he says quietly, his heart heavy with regret. “But the unfairness of the situation doesn’t change the nature of it.” He strokes his beard as he stares at the stupid pretend weapon. “Besides, Captain diGenova’s view is not an uncommon one.” Yusuf turns around and walks to the large mosaic picture window to look out at the distant clouds. “Did you notice how during the ceremony those who served on the front acted around me?” he asks, putting his hands behind his back.

“Around you…?” Noor frowns. “I thought they were very polite?”

The white clouds are slowly moving over the expanse of the wide sky, unstoppable and unapologetic, constantly changing their shape so that it is impossible to definitively say what they are at any given time.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Noor says quietly.

He shouldn’t have given in as easily as he had. But what would have happened if he hadn’t, Yusuf doesn't know. The alternate way is as elusive and unreachable to his mind as the clouds are to his fingers.

Perhaps, he could’ve found a way to fight — he should have snuck onto an allied airship to get to the front. Maybe even Captain diGenova’s… The Royal Air Force crew might not have recognized him the way the Divine Sultanate soldiers would have.

“But…” Noor starts haltingly. “Why? You served! You did your part too and you are still doing it!”

“I never saw a battlefield, Noor, and that’s all Captain diGenova apparently cares about,” he finishes with resignation.

“Well, if that is true, then he’s a fool!” Noor exclaims fiercely.

He sighs.

The countless times that The Lunar Dark docked at their port, the several times that the captain stepped into the palace where Yusuf also resided... They’d seen each other from afar several times back then — how hard would it have been to invent an excuse to bump into him, introduce himself, maybe even engineer a way in which diGenova would see him as a person first and find out him being a prince later? Yusuf never did anything to ingratiate himself to the captain. Instead, he pined from afar and kept away. And now it is too late.

Because a man who fought courageously and honorably will never see Yusuf as more than a decorated monkey: at the top of the command chain with no real experience... That they are to be married and it’s started at such a low point! 

He should have at least sent a proper gift, Yusuf realizes bitterly, but regrets carry as much weight as the clouds above them. The thought that he has lost his chance is so depressing that even though he remembers that the whole situation has been caused by Captain diGenova’s overindulgence, he cannot find it in himself to blame him for it.

“It is not your fault!” Noor insists again, more quiet.

Yes, yes, it is, Yusuf thinks to himself even more quietly.

### second courting gift

Next, Yusuf is supposed to write a poem for his intended or create some other piece of art that would 'bare his soul' or some such nonsense. Most often, it’s something commissioned but everyone pretends that the suitor is more involved in the creative process than contributing a few vague ideas. However, Yusuf has always been more of the opinion that personal attention in such matters is crucial. Especially after the previous exchange, he’s determined to make each gift count. Bitterly, he decides that what is, is and if he starts painting, he will end up crying, so a poem it is.

He starts sincerely enough. A love poem. Pining, impossible obstacles - that’s what it all is in the end, right? Only he feels off and nothing is working, words refuse to flow and he ends up with a three-stanza creation that talks about a goat withering away from a painful separation from his beloved, the moon. It is foolish but it is also funny and a large part of Yusuf likes the light tone of it.

He is grinning as he’s copying it onto the fresh sheet, and he adds a frivolous missive saying that the goat is a well-known symbol of strength and bravery in his culture. Once the gift has been sent, he panics and almost sends men to retrieve the facetious and inappropriate piece before it reaches the captain, but it’s probably too late so he refrains. What does he have to lose at this point? The good opinion of his betrothed? A chance at happiness?

He snorts.

When two days later, diGenova sends him a courtesy gift back, it’s a goat pie decorated with eyeballs. In the letter, the captain claims it to be a traditional northern dish that is prepared for the champions of the airship rigging climbing competitions. At first, Yusuf is almost even fooled but asks around and discovers that his betrothed has apparently called his bullshit.

Unexpectedly, he laughs.

### third courting gift

For the third courting gift, Yusuf is supposed to accomplish some kind of feat of physical bravery. Shooting dangerous game or winning some stupid tournament are the traditional preferences. One of Yusuf's legendary great great-aunts had even gone on a quest into an uncharted foreign land that lasted for several decades and only returned once her would-be spouse was dead. (Rather clever of her, Yusuf suspects.)

Yusuf is half tempted to sneak into diGenova’s bedroom while armed only with his stupid decorative weapon (see how his crew can stop him) and hit him over the head with it, but that would be too petty even for him. Besides, someone might get hurt, possibly even Yusuf if he’s not careful. He’d have to surrender if he fought Ni- diGenova, of course, but he’d put up a hell of a fight first and not even the dogs of hell could stop him unless he allowed them to.

Yusuf spends a good half an hour day-dreaming about it before willing himself to get serious. This is his chance to show diGenova that he is no wilting flower. (Or a goat mooning over a celestial body.) So what would it be that might have a chance of impressing someone from the Northern Kingdoms? It doesn’t actually take him long to come up with a plan.

After having ordered the local smith to sharpen his ‘toy saber’ up, he puts on comfortable dark clothes, and armed only with his gift and a small harpoon, sneaks out of the palace. It is just after midnight that he makes it out of the stables and under the cover of darkness, steals his own horse and sets off for the port.

Half an hour later, he ties Igenni to the gate and heads to the docks. The port harbours about twenty airships, but the one he’s looking for has a unique silhouette and Yusuf spots her easily. He looks around to check that there are no people near the docks nor a crew member on the ship, and shoots the harpoon hook high into the wall of the wooden upper deck. It sticks with a dull thud and Yusuf looks around to see if any of the airport patrol has noticed anything, but it’s still quiet. Grinning with the sudden burst of adrenaline, Yusuf grabs the rope and starts climbing.

He doesn’t let himself think — up and higher. Lower deck, upper deck, rigging, the shroud. It’s not that challenging physically, but he has to be quiet and there are close to thirty heavily-trained men on board, not all of whom will be sleeping. The thrill is high in his blood, the wind whooshes in his ears, and he’s almost reached the balloon when he hears people speaking. He stills and looking around, spots the port patrol coming closer. Just two men but it’s best if they don’t raise the alarm too soon. Yusuf plasters himself to the rope work of the rigging and prays that they don't look up.

They don't, and with his heart thudding, he climbs on. When Yusuf is on the widest part of the air balloon, an upper deck door opens and a crew member steps out. Yusuf stills again, and even though the sailor can’t see him, he tries not to breathe.

_Go away, go away, go away—_

Yusuf hears the man take a turn about the deck, then silence. Cautiously, Yusuf peels his cheek off the thick canvas and looks down. His heart stutters then soars: this is the captain himself, his profile dreamy on the background of the dark sky, his skin eerily pale in the moonlight. He’s leaning on the railing, staring out into the rows and rows of other airships. The quiet drags on and Yusuf's fingers are starting to become numb. He was planning on being seen but this is too early, he’s not yet achieved his goal and secured his escape.

The Captain is himself now staring at the moon and Yusuf would laugh if his situation wasn’t quite so dire. Can he succeed regardless? He unclenches his fingers from the rope and moves his hand to grab higher. Then at a snail’s pace, he lifts his right leg from its perch on the shroud and starts climbing again. The rig moves, pulls on something farther to the left and there's a clang.

"Who's there?" diGenova immediately calls out and helpfully leaps under the balloon, out of Yusuf's sight.

Thrilled, Yusuf resumes climbing at an insane pace, paying no attention to the noise he’s inevitably making. The crew is alerted in no time, and Yusuf can hear shouting from within the ship. Someone (most probably the captain himself) is on the rig farther away and quickly, Yusuf moves slightly to the left, out of sight.

"Where are you? Show yourself!" the captain yells threateningly.

Madly grinning, Yusuf leaps up, and reaching the top, he plants his feet as securely into the rig as possible, pulls out his saber and cuts through the ropes. The royal banner falls on top of him, and triumphantly, Yusuf stuffs most of it into his shirt, leaving just enough of the bright color visible.

Getting down is a lot quicker and easier, except that the crew is now on the deck—

"Here, Captain!" someone shouts, pointing.

Yusuf has no choice, he practically slides down the rig, jumps onto the bowsprit and down on the hard ground.

"My apologies, Captain," he shouts happily, still pumped up on adrenalin, "but I must return to the palace for it is unseemly for us to meet just yet." He gives a shallow bow, letting the moonlight glint on his newly-restored weapon. "Good night and farewell!"

Then he runs.

They give chase but Yusuf has Igenni, and so he rides, remembering the astounded look on diGenova’s face staring down at him from the rigging with glee. It is only on his way back that Yusuf realizes that his ankle is throbbing but Igenni is the best mount and they make it back with no problems.

Back at the palace he orders the banner cleaned and pressed, and by the next afternoon it is returned to the captain in a bronze filigrane box. The included message says:

_I apologize once more, my good Captain, but the food of champions, which you so graciously prepared for me, needed to be earned. I hope you will not find my feat to be so entirely in bad taste that you will find it unforgivable._

Yusuf is not sure if he managed to change his intended’s opinion of him at all, but he still feels proud. It was a frivolous escapade but he knows not many men would even attempt such an endeavour, and even fewer of them would succeed. Hopefully, Captain diGenova will see merit in his actions.

And it seems that he might, because the gift Yusuf receives three days later is a fully-equipped battle horse. However many different angles Yusuf tries to approach the puzzle, he cannot see any mocking meaning in the last acceptance gift. The beautiful grey steed is a present worthy of a warrior.

### the proposal

After everything that happened, Yusuf has no idea how he is supposed to feel. The fourth step of the courtship is a formal audience and a proposal. He's anxious and excited because there is a slight chance that he’s finally made some positive impression on his betrothed, but what if he’s wrong? What if the wonderful battle horse (now named Fama after the goddess for her speed) is a sign of grudging respect but nothing more? If so, Yusuf will take that.

Unhappily, he looks into the mirror. It’s not that he doesn’t think he’s good-looking; he knows that most people consider him quite handsome. But nothing that he sees in the mirror had impressed the captain all the previous times — why would it be better now?

It’s not about looks, he knows that. And perhaps, a cordial relationship with his husband is the best he can hope for. It will be fine, he tells himself. Nevertheless, every time he thinks of Nicolo diGenova, his heart picks up speed and the idea of hoping for any mutuality in vain, perhaps for years, is not something that he relishes. Oh heavens, he _is_ the stupid goat he wrote about in his thoughtless little poem. The wretched animal destined to yearn for his unreachable moon.

Yusuf decides on ceremonial non-military clothing, deep red with golden draping. It might be foolish but he also attaches the sword the captain gave him to his belt. Despite realizing the futility of it, Yusuf is still adamant about making sure no one can find fault in his appearance and the soft ‘oh’ Noor gives him, tells him everything he needs to know.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to go far. Since the captain's official residence in the Federates is his ship and the formal proposal has to happen in public and be somehow private at the same time, the Lord Chancellor has graciously offered to invite them both into his garden party for the occasion. So now here he is, his stomach is roiling with uncertainty, hands almost shaking. Noor kisses his cheek and smiles at him in a show of support before letting him go.

So. A proposal at a garden party. What an honour.

To be contrary, Yusuf decides to arrive early before the gathering grows too large. Good plan.

Except when he is announced, a ripple seems to go through the gathered crowd and the host starts wasting his time with polite small talk.

Oh heavens. DiGenova has not yet arrived.

The room goes hazy for just a moment, but Yusuf keeps smiling. Entertaining him, the Lord Chancellor takes him on his rounds, and Yusuf feels like a fool. Thankfully, people keep smiling at him as if it’s sweet instead of awkward that he’s so openly impatient about his proposal like a young lover.

And then it turns out that Nicolo diGenova also wants this farce to be over as soon as possible because, unfashionably early, he is announced.

Yusuf’s mouth is dry and he feels ungainly when he turns to look at the terrace. Yes, there he is, wearing his white parade uniform, looking as magnificently regal as any prince. The Captain has barely stepped off the stairs onto the gravel before he locks eyes with Yusuf, nods coldly and strides towards him at a pace that verges on being impolite.

“Good day, my lord,” diGenova greets the Lord Chancellor while still looking Yusuf in the eyes. “My prince.”

His stare is intense, sharp, almost challenging. A tremor goes down Yusuf’s spine and he can’t look away either. He has no idea what is said, only that the highest official of the Federate is talking about something and something else, and then diGenova’s hand is in the crook of Yusuf’s arm and they are moving towards the pavilion and the edge of the garden.

No one follows them but when they reach the airy structure, Yusuf can still hear the low murmur and feel the stares on his back. Uncannily though, the closer they get to the actual conversation, the more Yusuf feels himself calming. This is it, whatever happens now, happens. It is true that he cannot control what his intended thinks of him nor how he is going to act, but he is a prince and he will carry himself with dignity and decorum.

“Please,” Yusuf gestures towards the cushioned bench, “sit.”

The pavilion is large enough that he can stand without it feeling crowded or awkward and he levels, again, his gaze at his future spouse. The man, however, is not looking at him. Just previously so confident, diGenova is now sitting with his shoulders tense and even though his head is held high, he seems to almost be hunched over, as he’s looking towards the trees at the end of the garden.

“Captain,” Yusuf starts, but suddenly all his rehearsed words feel trite and used and insufficient. He's talking to a man of action, not words. “Nicolo,” he starts anew only to falter the second time. He laughs shortly at his own inability to find words, and startled, diGenova turns to him, the look in his gaze piercing with anger and humiliation.

Oh.

“I apologize,” Yusuf exclaims, and drops to one knee, grabbing one of diGenova’s hands from his lap. “I was not laughing at you, I assure you! It was merely at myself, at the embarrassing lack of eloquence that has suddenly befallen me, now that I am here, in front of you it is difficult for me—”

“I don’t understand,” diGenova interrupts him. “Why are you trying to be nice to me? I know, I essentially trapped you into this marriage and your gifts… I understand…”

“No, no! My gifts were not meant… I mean yes, the situation had angered me and I did perhaps take it out on the tradition and… It was beneath me, and you certainly deserved better—”

“It was exactly what I deserved. I...”

Nicolo trails off and there’s silence between them, before a deep blush is covering his cheeks. “Would you mind sitting, my prince? It’s improper for you to lower yourself—”

He starts pulling his hand back and instinctively, without letting go, Yusuf gets on the bench quite close to him — closer than they’ve ever been before and his thoughts are in disarray like a disrupted ant nest.

“I’m not lowering myself, I’m trying to propose, Nicolo,” Yusuf says, sounding a little impertinent despite himself. Then remembers, “Can I call you by your given name?” he asks. “I apologise—”

“Yes, yes, of course, my prince.”

“Call me Yusuf then.” Yusuf smiles and gets a tentative smile in return.

“I cannot possibly,” Nicolo disagrees, and abruptly, lets go of Yusuf’s hand.

Disbelief and confusion are warring on the captain’s face, and Yusuf’s heart starts jackhammering. This does not look like the disdain or condescension Yusuf expected at all, nothing even close… it looks more like... 

“It’s been an honour,” Yusuf goes on, trying to suppress the dregs of hope raising their heads in his heart. “An honor to court you.” He quirks his lips ironically. “I do hope my antics… They were not meant to mock you, not after the second one at least… If you’d allow, I would consider it to be my honour to court you one more time, this time with earnest admiration—”

“Oh God, please do not!” Nicolo’s lips form a horrified _oh_ . “Let’s not repeat this nerve-wracking experience **.”** He laughs, obviously embarrassed. “You shouldn’t — you shouldn’t have been forced to do any of it in the first place. I know you would never... I’m just a soldier and…”

He grimaces, and Yusuf’s heart is in his throat. The hope that was just a tiny seed is now spreading its powerful roots all over Yusuf’s chest. No. Nicolo does not despise him. Never has, probably. So why would he…?

“This is not what I expected from you,” Yusuf allows cautiously. “A hero of Jeh Krusillah, to call yourself just a soldier and think me to be lowering myself.” He studies the beautiful pale profile still turned away from him. “You are so much more than a mere soldier while I, by many, many markers, am a coward.”

Lightning fast, Nicolo raises his head, his eyebrows raised.

“A coward?” he asks, sounding confused, “You might not have been on the battlefield, but that does not make you a coward.”

“Oh?” Yusuf raises his own eyebrow in challenge. “Does it not? Come now, I know very well how you active military folks regard us, the brasserie that never put their own necks on the line.”

His cheeks flushing again, di— Nicolo has the grace to look away. “I am aware of such notions in general,” he replies, “but I am also not as uninformed of the current political climate as you seem to think. Because you are not the usual sort of brass, are you?” He levels his determined gaze back at Yusuf. “I do know how precarious our recently-achieved peace would become should your cousin ascend to the Sultanate.”

Yusuf takes a deep breath and leans back onto the cushions. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that,” he admits.

Nicolo shakes his head. “I cannot believe you’d… You speak as if my good opinion of you is in any way important...” He stops again, flushing deep red. “I mean… I didn’t mean to imply—”

“No, I understand!” Yusuf exclaims. “You do not have to explain, Captain. And your opinion…” Yusuf huffs. “Of course it is important! It is imperative,” he goes on more quietly, his eyes darting around to see if anyone heard. “We are to be married, so it is only natural that I want us to think the best of each other. Failing that, attempt to be cordial,” he finishes.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a couple of socialites slowly strolling past the hedge near them trying to look as if they are not at all eavesdropping. Noticing his reaction, Nicolo glances around his shoulder. Flashing a quick smile at Yusuf, he slowly, almost at a leisurely pace, rises, and turns towards the couple. Yusuf only sees his profile, but the way they both go a shade paler and start cautiously walking faster while trying to look as if they are still strolling, is amazing.

“That is…” Yusuf swallows. “Unprecedented. How did you do that? It never works for me.”

Nicolo returns to his seat with a sardonic smile playing on his lips. “You’re a prince, not a killer.”

“You are not...” Feeling vaguely horrified, Yusuf slowly shakes his head. “Don’t call yourself that. If it weren’t for you, thousands more innocent lives would’ve been lost!” He sees Nicolo trying to cut in, so he rushes on, “You’re an esteemed warrior that rose through the ranks on his own merit; from being an orphan to a soldier to a captain with no powerful family to back you up; solely due to your diligence, cunning and honor. You’re—”

“I fight,” Nicolo interrupts decisively, “because this is the only thing I can do. It is the only thing I am good at. I see a battlefield and I see how to conquer it, how to destroy. You, on the other hand… You build schools, hospitals, and homes for displaced people. I know what keeps happening to the areas we subdue, and I know it is different for the areas where the Sultanate now rules. Under you. You are the honorable one, not me. I fight to kill, you fight to heal. You develop infrastructure and create workplaces. You are the hero.”

Yusuf feels hot, shifting uncomfortably in his thin cushion. “I didn’t… I haven’t…” he sputters. “I just did what needed to be done, and I’m a prince, it is my duty—”

“None of the other newly-appointed district heads thought so.”

And Yusuf really can’t say anything to that because it is true that not all members of the Supreme Council of the Peace Treaty have the same understanding of duty as he.

“I am just sorry I have trapped you into this marriage,” Nicolo diGenova says quietly, and the sincere sorrow in his voice cuts into Yusuf’s heart like a knife.

“It is not…” Yusuf has to… he has to make Nicolo see… “I cannot deny that I had no choice in this matter—”

“I am so sorry, my Prince!” Nicolo exclaims in distress. “I have forced your hand—”

“No, no, no!” Yusuf interjects but Nicolo is not stopping.

“But I am to blame!” he goes on as if Yusuf hadn’t spoken. “However unintentionally, I have forced your hand, making you to tie your fate to a simple soldier—”

“Nicolo!” Yusuf says firmly, and puts his hand on Nicolo’s.

The captain’s mouth closes with a click and he stares at Yusuf in a rapt surprise. 

“I am not trying to make you feel guilty,” Yusuf says, cautiously withdrawing his hand.

This seems to be the exact wrong thing to say because even if there is silence, Nicolo is an obvious picture of guilt: looking down at his hands in his lap and pressing his lips firmly together. He nods to Yusuf’s to continue without looking up.

Fortifying himself, Yusuf starts, “First, I want you to know that I do not blame you.”

Nicolo presses lips thinly together, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“Secondly, however regrettable the beginning, we don’t have to make that into a foundation of our marriage. In fact, I think we should discard it as entirely irrelevant.” Yusuf sees the objection forming on Nicolo’s face, and quickly, goes on, “Thirdly, despite the origin of our union, I do not, in any way, feel like I am stepping into an unequal relationship. We come from different places in life, that is true, but I feel…” Yusuf takes a deep breath. “I do consider it an honour to be tying my life to yours, not just a simple soldier, but a celebrated hero and an honorable man.”

Delighted to see a blush on Nicolo’s face, Yusuf fluidly slides down onto one knee and takes his fiance's hand.

“So the only thing I want to do now,” Yusuf says in a clear voice, “is to formally ask you, Nicolo diGenova, to concede to this spousal union despite your personal misgivings, political agendas or gossip windmills. To give it your best effort...” Here Yusuf falters, but suddenly decides that it’s past time the tradition should help instead of hinder and continues with the words of the wedding vow, “in wealth and power, in mutual respect and love, to be my faithful and helpful husband for the years ahead of us both.” Nicolo opens his mouth but Yusuf shakes his head and presses his advantage, “I do want you to say yes, don’t get me wrong, I want it so much! But only if you think that it is what might, one day, make you happy. Because if you think this is unlikely, I will gladly return home in disgrace if it means you can go back to your life and find your own way to happiness.”

For a long moment, Nicolo is silent. His eyes are glistening wet, his face stunned speechless, and a part of Yusuf is delighted. Another, larger part is on pins and needles, and perhaps Nicolo is not sure. Maybe he feels pressured—

“If you still need time…” Yusuf interrupts the silence. “I do wish you could tell me here and now, once and for all... but I realise that it might be impossible. So instead, I will just ask: may I hope?”

Yusuf is foolish to give so much power over him to another person, but he does not think Nicolo diGenva would ever use it ill.

“My prince,” Nicolo starts hoarsely, then clears his throat, his eyes are roaming over Yusuf’s face and his eyes are shining with awe and amazement.

“Yes, my Nicolo?” Yusuf cannot help but ask.

Startled into an incredulous laugh, Nicolo shakes his head and fluidly gets down on his knees, so that they are level and equal and takes Yusuf’s other hand into his grasp.

“I can’t believe…” Nicolo’s lips turn up in an uncertain, crooked smile for just a moment before he continues, “I can’t believe how generous you are! How… wonderful. I apologise,” he swallows heavily, “for my inelegant words, but I am not an eloquent man, and you… you are like the sun.”

He takes a deep breath and his eyes are intent and questioning as if he is still unsure how his words would be received, and just as Yusuf tries to interrupt him, Nicolo brings his hand to his mouth and kisses it.

“You are like the sun,” Nicolo continues, holding Yusuf’s hand to his chest now, “coming out from behind the clouds, making everything brighter, warmer… happier. For me. And everybody around you, I guess, but I cannot hide that I am a selfish man, and therefore happy, insanely happy, that I am the one who gets to call you my husband, and however embarrassed I am for my behaviour at the awards event, I can only apologise, again. And will keep apologizing—”

“You have no apologies to make, no evidence to procure,” Yusuf responds hastily, and wants to add more, to babble, but Nicolo doesn’t let him.

“Oh, but I do, my prince! I do. Let me earn your regard, I beg of you! I will gladly spend the rest of my life proving my devotion to you again and again, because I have been a coward in everything to do with you. Every time I saw you, I failed—!”

“Nicolo—”

“No, let me speak!” Nicolo is a force of nature, his eyes fierce, and with tears of gratitude in his eyes, Yusuf concedes.

“To hear you admit…” Nicolo’s voice breaks, but clears it and bravely barrels on, “To hear you admit your admiration for me, however undeserved... It-it is everything. Because the truth is…” He takes another breath, and his cheeks grow suddenly darker and he lowers their joint hands, looking down at them. “The truth is, I’ve admired you from afar since I saw you in the Royal Palazzo two years ago.” He smiles briefly, and his eyes flicker up to Yusuf’s but just for a moment. “You have no idea how many excuses I’ve invented to travel to the Sultanate just to catch a glimpse of you, only to be disappointed when you weren’t even there. But the times you were, were the most torturous — for all the courage I have on the battlefield, in the matters of the heart however... I just couldn’t imagine that there could ever be a chance that… You’re a prince, Yusuf… And I come from nothing!”

Yusuf shakes his head. “You might have come from nothing, but you are everything a man should be, Nicolo!” He strokes his thumbs over the backs of Nicolo’s hands once and then keeps caressing them, because he cannot stop. “I can’t believe you’ve been as enamoured with me as I have with you. Had I known that you were just shy...”

He smiles flirtatiously, but Nicolo doesn’t respond in kind. Instead, his earnest smile slips off his face, and he looks down.

“I am aware I acted coldly towards you when I was supposed to make you feel welcome on my ship,” he says quietly. “I will always regret that, and all the other lost opportunities. For that, I will just have to beg for your forgiveness. But for the chance to tell you, yes… yes, it would make me the happiest of men to call you husband, I am grateful.”

He raises his eyes, and they are moist with emotion. Yusuf opens his mouth, but Nicolo shakes his head, takes a shuddering breath and adds, “Just seeing you makes me happier, Yusuf. For this, I thank you.”

Yusuf doesn't wait for a second more, and to hell with the decorum, he cups Nicolo’s cheeks and kisses him. His heart swells to twice its size and soars, and revels in Nicolo’s soft, warm lips, tasting of tears and desire, spellbound by his closeness and his touch. Yusuf runs a hand through silky soft strands of short hair and tells himself not to cry.

They break apart, and still holding hands, return to the bench. Yusuf cannot help but smile fondly at the radiant face beaming brightly back at him. He realises that the shadows he’s been living inside for weeks are finally gone.

“Please, don’t cry,” Nicolo says.

“I’m just so, so grateful to have this. To have you.”

Their future together is still a big unknown. Yet, looking at Nicolo and seeing his own happiness reflected in his betrothed’s gaze, gives him the courage to take on whatever it might hold. After all, what has he to fear if they are together?

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


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